


Drabbles for the Anon

by noose_lion



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Being in Jail, Drabble Collection, First Meetings, Ice Cream Parlors, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jail, M/M, Sparklings, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noose_lion/pseuds/noose_lion
Summary: I've been getting some anonymous prompts from an Anon. So in return I've been writing drabbles!
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	1. Oblivious Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from Anon;
> 
> Let's set the scene: No-war Iacon, midday. In a cybertronian equivalent of an ice cream shop. Jazz, midrant: "-and I absolutely don't get why mechs would still fall for someone like that! If they cheated on someone to be with you, then who's to say they won't cheat on you to get to someone else?!?" Prowl: "exactly! I wouldn't want to be someone with X personality either!" Jazz: "SAME! I'm so glad you get it!!" Everyone else within the shop: *internally screaming*

The orn should have been an ordinary peaceful orn. The treat shop should have been calm, a perfect place for families and couples to eat a frost-treat and enjoy time together. It would be... if not for the two mechs (a Polyhexan and a Praxian) sitting in the corner being very disruptive. 

"-an I absolutely don' get why mecha would still fall for someone like that! If they cheated on someone to be with yah, then who's tah say they won't cheat on yah tah get tah someone else?!?" Shouted the silver and white armoured Polyhexan slamming his servo down on the table.

His Praxian companion nodded gravely, wings twitching in agreement. " Oh most definitely, Jazz. They lied to get there, they wouldn't hesitate to lie to get out!"

"Besides who would actually be attracted tah a sleezy mech who lies tah his own Conjux! Sleezy is NOT an attractive personality." 

" Exactly! I wouldn't want to be someone with a sleezy personality either!" 

The two mechs were quite, sharing a moment of companionable silence, mis-matched optics met a deep azure visor before shifting away quickly. It seemed like every mech and femme in the place was listening to the paused discussion, holding their breath in suspense. 

Finally the tattooed Praxian muttered something along the lines of, " besides an aft like that isn't worth it."

"SAME! I'm so glad you get it, Prowler!!" Jazz shout as he grinned borderline adoringly at the other mech.

Everyone else within the shop sighed, internally screaming for the two oblivious idiots to get a fragging clue.


	2. Queen of the Gremlins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anon; i jUST WANT PROWL AND JAZZ TO REPOPULATE THE ENTIRETY OF PRAXUS! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK????? \\(TAT)/ (also gosh i absolutely adore that drabble!!) 
> 
> Hello once again dear Anon. AND NO! THAT IS NOT TO MUCH TO ASK!!!!! 
> 
> Anywho here is a short-fic. Because damn. That got out of hand. Warnings for; crack, fluff, and swear words?

They were everywhere. 

Scurrying up and down the halls, under the tables the rec room, sprinting in and out of offices, pits, they were even PLAYING in the med-bay. They had reign of the whole base, and their was a ton of them. Cliffjumper wasn't even sure how many there were. All he knew was no matter where he was except maybe his own room (he'd even found them swimming in the baths of the wash rack), there was at least three to four grayscale gremlins terrorizing the place.

They were horrifically cute. With fluttering door-wings too big for their frames, optics that seemed to take up most of their face, and audio fins that provided them with the best 'helpless puppy' look on Cybertron. Cliffjumper couldn't handle it, they were little monsters and only he could tell. Everyone else was wrapped around their fingers. And considering who their parents were it was no wonder the sparklings hadn't eaten anybody or stolen anything. What was most infuriating to the mini-bot was that no one even noticed they were being manipulated for extra treats or a free ride. No one but Cliffjumper. And he had to do something about it the war was over, and he deserved some peace.

Striding confidently across the rec room he approached the queen of the gremlins himself. "Prowl?" 

" Yes Cliffjumper." The tattooed Praxian asked looking up from the sleeping newling on his lap, his most recently emerged. They weren't old enough to be running around terrorizing with they're siblings. Yet.

"I would like to report a disturbance." The red armoured Urayasian said being oddly formal, hiding his usual anxiety to be talking so casually with the Praxian.

Prowl sighed, "you can place any complaint or suggestion in the suggestion box."

Cliffjumper shifted nervously, " this is a bit of a more personal complaint."

"Is that so." Prowl says with a tilt of his head.

" Yes you see, your little gremlins, are-"

"Gremlins?" An optics ridge arched delicately.

"Uh, sparklings sir. I meant sparklings. Your sparklings are causing a slagging heap of-" 

"Language, Cliffjumper. There is a newling present" Prowl cuts in, mis-matched optics flashing dangerously.

"O um, sorry." Cliffjumper mutters, he was starting to lose confidence. " Well you see your sparklings are causing a lot of problems. And they're evil little slag- I mean evil little devils. And, uh, I was hoping you, might uh, stop them..."

Prowl stared at Cliffjumper for an uncomfortable amount of time. " I see. This is a very serious issue, my creations are being very... evil."

Cliffjumper couldn't honestly tell if the commander was mocking him or not. 

" Yes you see they keep manipulating mecha out of their food..."

"O how awful I must correct them immediately." Prowl leaned slightly away from the table calling out a three tone click in what Cliffjumper could only guess was another language.

The rec room had gone quite in confusion. The silence being perfect to hear the patter of small peds as they skittered overhead, before several younglings (and a sparkling) popped out of the vent above Prowl's table. 

" Hi Carrier!"

" You need us?"

" We promise we weren't-"

" Shhh!"

"No you shh!"

Prowl held up a hand for silence just as Jazz waltzed through the door. 

Cliffjumper was starting to feel a notable amount of danger. 

Jazz approached the table and patiently held his arms out allowing the younglings to jump out of the vent safely in a flurry of, "SIRE!" "Did you see us!" "We were playing spies!" 

"Sure did! Before yah know it ya'll will be givin' mah a run for mah money bitlets." The visored Polyhexan chuckled as the younglings (and sparkling) clambered down his frame and run over to Prowl.

Plopping himself in a chair beside Prowl, Jazz waved his Dreads playfully at the newling before kissing Prowl on the temple. 

Cliffjumper sighed slouching over as he seemed his mission a failure. He stomped over to another table in the rec room where some mecha were playing cards. " Do you think they will ever stop having those little heathens? Why do they slagging want that many anyway?"

Smokescreen, who was dealing cards, snorted "pretty sure Prowl said something about repopulating Praxus or something."

The many curses that streamed from the mini-bots mouth almost got him sent to the brig. Because in Prowl's words, "YOUNGLINGS ARE PRESENT!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Mama Prowl is probably one of my favorite things. Ever. And Prowl and Jazz with a bunch of sparklings definitely the best. Once again good prompt. 
> 
> And a headcanon I have for Praxian carriers is that they will only trust having their sparklings out of sight only after they are no longer newlings, and then only if they are within a certain distance. Praxians are very protective but also very social, so only family is trusted with the bitlets.


	3. Out of My League

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anons prompt;  
>  Not really a prompt but more like a random scene: it's their Sparkling's bedtime and it's Jazz turn to tuck them in. Their kid can't sleep and asks "How did you and carrier meet?" Or something like that. Cue Jazz just rambling like a lovestruck idiot along the lines of "Out of my League" by Stephen Speaks. Yeah he still got it bad
> 
> Ok so sorry for not using any song lines, but here yeah go! I hoped I made up for it! And I'm sorry this took so long!!!

Jazz tapped his knuckles on the doorframe leaning into his creations room, " time tah hit tha sack youngin'."

" Awww come on Sire, just five more breems!" Bluestreak begged from his desk, " I almost finished this drawing!" 

With a chuckle Jazz entered the room, " That's what yah said five breems ago."

"Yeah ok," Bluestreak sighed hopping off his stool.

The smallish mechling put up his sketch-pad and trotted to his berth. Climbing up and burying himself under the covers, his head peeking out to watch his Sire with amaranth optics. Jazz shook his helm fondly, Dreads swinging with the motion as he set on the edge of the berth. 

"Sire can you tell me a story?"

"Sure bitlet, what you got in mind?"

Bluestreak's face screwed up as he thought, his wings fluttering mindlessly, " how did you and Carrier meet?"

Jazz smiled. " In ah 'forcer station. I did somethin' naughty an' got in trouble. And while I was there I met your Carrier."

"Really?" 

"Yes really. And I fell for 'im instantly." 

"Just like that?"

"Yep. Just like that." Jazz said leaning down to kiss Bluestreak on the forehead. "Go to sleep bitlet, love yah."

As the Polyhexan stood up Bluestreak spoke up. "I love you too Sire." 

Jazz smiled and left the room switching of the light and closing the door softly. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
10 vorns prior

Jazz stumbled as the Iaconian enforcer shoved him inside a holding cell. Cursing softly he righted himself shooting the enforcer a dirty look. The enforcer just smirked before sauntering off.

" And here I thought I'd be getting a cell to my self." 

Jazz turned around. A decidedly young (and small) Praxian sat cross legged on the cell bench regarding him with mis-matched optics, one bright yellow the other light blue.

"Who are you?" The visored Polyhexan asked studying the other mech.

The Praxian, who was adorned in black Praxian styled armor which showed off his pure white and silver patched tattooed protoform, tipped his head curiously. "You may call me Prowl."

Jazz grinned impishly, " Prowl huh? Sneaky." 

It earned him a slightly amused quirk of a lip. Tapping his fist to his chest Jazz introduced himself, " I'm Jazz." 

"Jazz~"

Said mech shuddered, his name sounded downright sinful rolling off that glossa.

"Very... musical," Prowl said with a smirk.

Jazz laughed, " yah got me there! I do like my music."

The two sat on the cell bench knees brushing, conversing on various topics till a enforcer clanked the cell door open, a few hours later. " Prowl apparently your brother has a reach farther then we thought. Your free to go."

The Praxian smirked at the enforcer, unarmored wings flapping amusedly. " I told you that."

Jazz watched the exchange disappointedly. He had found Prowl's company very entertaining. As he stood up Prowl slipped a servo into Jazz in farewell, "see you around Jazz."

Only until after Prowl and the enforcer left did Jazz look into servo, reading the comm number Prowl had left him written in an elegant scrawl. " See yah around Prowler." 

Jazz knew he was slagged when joors later he was still thinking of those pretty wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So yeah. I totally headcanon Prowl as an ex-thief. He stole priceless art and artifacts. The reason he seems so itemless during the war is because his hoard was destroyed with Praxus, and the things he has still are to recognizable. 
> 
> No one could prove anything and Barricade his enforcer brother had a lot of contacts that kept Prowl from ever seeing real jail time.


End file.
